Memoir style writing from a rainy island in Alaska.

The Betrayal

The smell was thick. That smell and the low buzz, constant in his skull begged him to open his eyes. Slowly focus came, struggling, he peered between the planters.

The door! His limbs were numb, but he knew he had to get there. He had to save her, yet each movement sent needling pain. He reached to feel the back of his head. His hands came away wet and red with blood.

A movement caught his eye. She stepped out. Her eyes found his. Her brow furrowed, speaking to someone behind her, she pointed at him, turned and walked away.